~FOURTEEN~

 

Belafonte, Delaware~ 6 years earlier…

 

“You know, museums aren’t my favorite places, Chad,” Victor Rwomire’s dark eyes held uncharacteristic trepidation as he looked toward the rain-washed building that loomed a little too close for his comfort.

“Come on, a Renaissance man like you?” Chad Efthim grinned while pumping his friend’s hand in a hearty shake.

Victor didn’t seem appeased. “I don’t much care for looking into the past,” he said.

Chad’s grin remained. “Calm down, Arem. If it makes you feel any better, the place isn’t a museum but a gallery.”

Victor rolled his eyes toward the large golden-lit building that seemed more brilliant given the rainy conditions of the late afternoon weather. “Is there a difference?” he muttered.

“The artists here are trying to capture fame before they’re dead,” Chad dropped a hand to Victor’s shoulder in a hearty clap. “You get to meet them live and in living color.”

“I’m still trying to figure why you think I’d want to meet one.”

Chad leaned close as though he were about to impart with some great secret. “I think you’ll find her work inspiring.”

Victor’s brows rose, his eyes filtering with realization. “You trying to set me up? We aren’t exactly the blind date type, you know?”

Chad dropped an arm about his old friend’s shoulders and squeezed. “I think you two will have a lot in common.”

“What makes you say that?” Victor’s stony expression showed no signs of softening.

Chad’s steps toward the gallery remained purposeful. “Let’s just say I can guarantee things are about to become much more interesting.”

The men had been making their way toward the gallery entrance during their light chat. Victor’s stony demeanor transitioned to a mellower one when a waiter approached him and Chad with a tray of champagne-filled flutes. Victor caught the nod Chad gave and followed the line of the man’s gaze. A second later, his thoughts were fixed on one thing.

Slowly then, as though he was at once unnerved and intrigued, Victor Rwomire approached the canvas set a few feet away. It was displayed before a large poster of a dark woman with entrancing brown eyes. The walnut shaped orbs accentuated an equally entrancing face.

The poster noted that the woman; Kyla Avery, was the featured artist. It was the lovely Ms. Avery who had created the piece then holding Victor in a state of awe.

Chad approached, enjoying his friend’s captivation. He leaned closer, squeezing Victor’s shoulder again. “Was I right?”

“Is she…one of us?” Victor sounded as dazed as he felt.

Chad laughed, but was in no way confused by the question. “It’s doubtful she’s ever been off the east coast. She has an elegant…” Chad seemed to be contemplating the rest of his response. “Innocence about her. She’s a very enchanting woman.”

“She’d have to be to create something so… exquisite.”

“Well let’s say you see for yourself?” Chad cast a hand before them towards a small crowd that had gathered at a far corner of the room.

Victor could tell the people there were gathered around one woman. He nodded indicating Chad proceed with an introduction.

The small group made room for Chad when he approached with congratulations and accolades for the smiling artist. As he was a well-known philanthropist and one who had donated quite generously to the gallery in recent months, he was of course treated with an obvious measure of respect.

Chad wasted no time giving the intros, unable to resist chuckling at the sight of his old friend stupefied like a man who’d never met a woman before. He even had to give Victor a slight nudge to push him into action.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Avery,” Victor sent a dazed look toward the featured canvas and then back to the artist. “Your work…it’s astounding.”

Kyla ‘Jillian’ Avery; far lovelier than her dazzling poster depicted, smiled as her brows arched in a show of appreciation. “Thank you,” she accepted the handshake from the stranger whose looks she couldn’t help but notice.

Handsome wasn’t the word, but it would have to do. She gave herself a silent criticism. Her weakness for beautiful men would get her into serious trouble one day. Luckily, the stranger, who Chad Efthim had introduced as Victor Rwomire, was asking her another question that interrupted her wayward thoughts. What inspired you? He’d asked.

“My daughter,” Jill released a sigh as if sharing the information had been some great feat.

Victor’s sleek brows hiked a few notches. “Inspired to art by your child…sounds like a story I’d love to hear.”

Jill laughed, “Oh I assure you it’s nothing overwhelming.”

“Maybe you’ll let me be the judge of that?”

“Well I-”

“Perhaps I could persuade you over coffee?”

“I would love to,” the truth of Jill’s response came through in the breathy, disappointed tone of her voice. She gave a quick shake of her head though as if trying to shake herself awake. “It’s not a good night with the show and the guests I…” she could hear herself rambling, felt unable to stop it. “My daughter…I didn’t pay the sitter to stay all night.”

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” Victor soothed, his tone and manner as easy as Jillian Avery’s was rattled. “Your responsibilities will keep,” he promised. “I won’t hold you long.”

In the back of Jill’s mind, far in the back, a voice warned that a minute longer in Victor Rwomire’s presence would be too long.

“Come with me,” he urged.

Jill felt herself nodding agreement.

Victor sent another look toward the canvas that continued to devastate him. There lay images that had heralded his descent into the half-life he’d been sentenced to for almost two centuries.

“It would be an honor to meet the young woman who inspired such…beauty…”

What is her name, dear?

Abby…

Abby…

“Do you think we could make that happen?” Victor smiled in response when Jillian Avery nodded as he knew she would.

***

 

 

Following over a month of extensive planning, the Lakes High senior class was embarking upon its class trip to lavish Eternity Lodge. Given the establishment’s busy calendar, the senior class was asked to move its trip up several weeks, which made it more of an early spring event. No one complained.

Members of the visiting group marveled over the resort. The student council officers all thought the place was even more spectacular than it had been during their first visit. In spite of all the upheavals within the Akintunde clan, the resort’s owners had gone the extra mile to ensure the seniors had a memorable time. Despite the need for speedy planning, Stephan and Gregory had arranged for many popular acts to perform. Private shows were on tap from internationally known Hip Hop, R&B, Jazz, Pop, comedians and even spoken word artists.

Lilia was as floored as anyone else and she couldn’t quite believe everything had turned out so well. It had all seemed like such a blur since her first trip out months prior to pitch the idea.

Thinking of the owners had Lilia glancing around then in hopes of glimpsing Fystian. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since their date weeks ago-weeks that had almost gone over the month mark. She’d had the best time and had hoped he would ask her out again or… at least call to talk about asking her out again. She remembered sensing that he was tense, but just figured that it was just ‘end of date’ awkwardness. Though, she couldn’t imagine that the guy had ever been awkward a day in his life.

He’d said that he wanted to keep seeing her, but she guessed the date hadn’t ended as successfully as he’d wanted after all. Lilia found herself regretting that too, but she knew very well the consequences of following one’s wants. After all, hadn’t her mother gotten caught up in the same wants with Lilia herself as the result?

She shook her head then, realizing how deeply her thoughts had tunneled. This was definitely not the place for that. The air was alive with activity and conversation and she intended to enjoy it.

Lilia left the Jeep and went to heft her bags from the back. She smiled, hearing the offer for assistance and turned to say she was okay. Her smile froze when she saw Caspian Akintunde standing near.

“Please don’t leave,” he kept a nice amount of distance, his too-handsome face animated as he raised his hands in a playful show of defense. “Step and Greg will have my ass and I don’t even want to think about what Fy will do to me.”

Lilia dissolved into laughter, but ordered herself to sober. “I’m sorry- especially for what happened before I- I told Fystian you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry if it caused tension between you guys.”

“’Sokay,” Caspian threw off the apology with a wave, “I hope you won’t mind telling me now what spooked you then. Suri told me that you said it wasn’t the scar, but was that it? I’d understand.”

Lilia shook her head defiantly in response and gave over her garment bag when Caspian gestured for it. “It’s not your scar. You remind me of my stepfather.”

He winced. “And I’ll take your reaction to mean, you guys didn’t have the best relationship?”

“Huge understatement!” Lilia’s laughter came through again easily. “But yeah, you can definitely take it to mean that.”

Caspian wasn’t so amused. “I hope I’m not stirring up bad memories?”

They fell in step and Lilia shrugged. “Maybe if I talk about it instead of running, it might do me some good.”

“Bad times, huh?”

“Real bad, ‘specially for my mom.”

Caspian nodded. “It’s good she got away from him.”

“Ran away from him,” Lilia switched the strap of her overnight bag to her other shoulder. Vaguely, she noted that she was telling this guy things she hadn’t even told Fystian when he’d asked. They were things she could rarely bring herself to even think of. She couldn’t seem to resist confiding though and silently admitted how good it felt.

“We’ve been living like fugitives for the last four years,” she went on, “he was very rich with lots of ways to track us.”

“Jesus, Lilia, have you told Fystian any of this?” Caspian knew she hadn’t.

Lilia was already shaking her head quickly. “I don’t like to think about it- much less talk about it.”

“Your stepfather-”

“Victor Rwomire,” Lilia blurted before she even realized her lips were moving.

Caspian smiled, not at all surprised by the outburst. “Have you seen him since you and your mom left?”

“There’ve been some close calls,” Lilia shook her head. “We’ve run into men who work for him, asking questions. Mom and me don’t stick around much after those visits… we haven’t seen him though at least as far as I know.”

“And here we are.”

Lilia gasped, realizing they’d been talking so that she didn’t even notice they’d made it to her room. She stood there in the center of the suite with its lavender color scheme against rich dark oak and she marveled over the sheer size of the place.

“Fystian asked that you have your own room,” Caspian shared, putting her bags to the foot of the queen-sized sleigh bed. “I’ll let you get settled.”

“Caspian?” Lilia regained her verbal abilities before he cleared the doorway. “Thanks,” she called.

***

 

Suri stopped in her tracks when she came upon the quaint cottage at the base of the mountain. No turning back now, she acknowledged upon seeing Bakri M’Baye leaning against the frame of his open front door. For the last four weeks, she had talked herself into and out of going to see him. The answers Stephan’s and Gregory’s story had provided had kept them all busy for quite some time as she and her siblings debated the implications. The debates merely created a new trove of questions- ones Suraiya was certain Bakri had some; if not all, of the answers to.

The guy stood there, arms folded over his superb chest, one ankle crossed over the other. He looked as though he’d been waiting for her, Suri thought. She cleared her throat and dug deep for just a bit of attitude to help her match his and then she headed forward.

“I want to know about the prophecy,” she wasted no time getting to the purpose of her visit once they stood face to face. She cringed inwardly when he had the nerve to smirk down at her.

“What about it?” He challenged.

“How do you know it?”

He rolled back a shoulder in a makeshift shrug. “Bedtime story, I guess.”

“You horse’s ass-”

“Hold on, Princess,” he suddenly pushed off the door. “I’m not one of those caretakers you boss around at that castle of yours.”

Suri made an obvious show of tamping down her temper. Clearly almost a month apart hadn’t quelled the guy’s ability to rub her the wrong way. Still, there was no sense in insulting him before he could tell her anything.

“Look, I’ve spent over a month trying to research this thing from what information I have I-I only want to know what it means.”

“Are you ready to know?”

She gaped at him for a few seconds. “If you knew how long I’ve waited, you’d know the answer to that!” Suri rolled her eyes as defeat settled in. “Forget it.”

Bakri caught her arm before she could take half a step.

Suri didn’t resist his hold. “Tell me something- anything.” Defeat made way for pleading. “My family’s clueless and you’re the only one I’ve ever met who doesn’t seem to be.” She lifted a hand but reconsidered pressing it to his chest. “Please tell me what you know or… or at least give me something more than what I have to go on. I promise I’ll leave you alone then. I won’t bother you again, I swear it.”

He crowded her so suddenly, spinning her so that she was the one against the door. “What makes you think I’d want you to leave me alone, Princess?”

Suri lost whatever capability she had to think rationally. She rushed Bakri’s solid frame, crushing his mouth with her own. Kissing him had been on her mind since the last one they shared.

Bakri broke the kiss, but kept his hands folded over Suri’s elbows. “Be sure, Princess,” he warned. “I don’t intend to let you go until I’ve enjoyed things… thoroughly.”

The way his pitch stare raked her body repeatedly up and down should have had her racing off the porch. Instead, she initiated another kiss, gasping in the midst of it when he tugged her high against his big body.

The front door slammed shut behind them, seconds later.

***

 

Jillian felt a rush of excitement travel her spine as she read through the list of fattening ingredients on the back of the box of frozen cream cheese puffs. She should have felt guilty for being so excited by a week of being on her own, but every mom needed a break no matter how old her child was. With Lilia away on the lavish senior week trip to Eternity Lodge, Jill intended to enjoy a very restful, moderately decadent time at home alone.

She finished piling the last of her groceries into the cart and got in line to checkout. Some headline on a celebrity gossip rag caught her eye and she was browsing the publication when she heard him.

“Never knew those were your style, Kyla.”

Jill froze, but for the tightening of her fingers around the magazine’s pages. She looked from the cashier to the other three people waiting to pay. While the music spilling from the store’s speakers filled her ears, Jill tried to determine if the other customers’ bodies had gone still from the shock Victor Rwomire’s presence could instill.

No one reacted. She was clearly the only one lucky enough- dumb enough in her opinion to still be rattled by the man. Her thoughts back pedaled and she noted that he was in fact the man she saw all those weeks ago outside the café where she worked.

The element of smug assurance she’d always associated with the man still rolled off him in waves. It made her bristle and ushered in the anger she needed to turn and face him.

Victor Rwomire’s undeniably handsome features grew more so when he smiled. Approval filled his long, deep stare as it studied Jillian’s face.

“Still a beauty,” he commended as though he were in awe, “even more beautiful somehow… is the same true of my Abby?”

“Keep my child’s name out of your mouth.” Jill spat.

“Tsk, tsk, now Jill is that any way for you to talk to a concerned father?”

“Father? Try monster, you filth!” Jill hissed her rant, absently noting that no one seemed particularly interested in them. No surprise there. Her ex-husband had an… ability for setting a scene to his advantage.

“Stay away from us, Vic. Stay away from her.” Jill gave a feral smile when he stiffened, knowing how much he hated the shortening of his name. “Stay out of my sight or I swear I will find some way to kill you.” She leveled her gaze with his to ensure her threat was clear. She turned slowly, regally. She left her ex-husband standing behind her unpurchased cart of groceries while she stormed out of the store.

***

 

The home of Mayor Joseph Masterson was in a state of uproar, but then that tended to be the order of things at the sprawling estate just outside the town limits. The fuse was lit when Mackenzy Masterson’s ride to Eternity Lodge arrived. Her parents weren’t pleased by who they saw at the wheel of the VW Bug in the driveway.

“This is so embarrassing! Are you guys serious?!” Mac pulled all ten fingers through her hair and raced over to peek out at the big winding drive where Sean Morris waited. “What am I supposed to tell him?”

“You don’t have to tell him anything,” Michelle Masterson’s response was airy as though she took no notice of her daughter’s outrage. She stood rearranging framed photos atop the white Grand piano. “We’ll send someone out to do it for you.”

“That’s a load of crap, Mom!”

“Mac! That’s enough!” Joseph Masterson slammed the parlor door when he entered the room. “Do you want the whole house hearing-”

“I don’t care!”

“You will shut your mouth or be grounded,” the man voiced the warning quietly.

“Go on! Ground me! I’ll be eighteen in two weeks and if you plan to threaten me by cutting off my money, I guess it’ll be time to dig into the stash I’ve been saving since I was twelve!”

“Mackenzy please…” Michelle Masterson’s soft voice filtered in again. “Sweetheart think about who your father is. How will it look for you to be seen with…”

“With who, Mom? A black guy?”

“Now we never said that!” Joseph Masterson was outraged.

Mackenzy laughed. “Save the act for the house staff, Daddy.” She fixed her parents with a scathing look. “You guys should remember that Sean’s dad is a surgeon. My guess is, he runs in circles of people who’d be very interested in hearing all about Lake Eternity’s racist mayor.”

“Mackenzy Diane Masterson, that’s enough-!”

“Michelle,” Joseph Masterson raised a hand, his voice weary as he accepted his daughter’s point. “Let her go.” He left the room through an opposite door.

Mackenzy bolted moments later.

~~~

 

Sean Morris watched as Mackenzy slammed her way into the car and fought a battle with the seat belt to strap in.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No!” Mackenzy inhaled dramatically and set her hands out before her as though she were trying to steady herself. “My parents are such jerks. They pick the weirdest times to go all overprotective,” she decided not to tell Sean what they had really fought over. “I wish I never had to see them again.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“Oh I mean it, alright. They don’t give a damn about me or my feelings.” Mac gave an angry tug to the chic denim jacket she sported. “They probably wouldn’t care if I fell off the face of the earth. All they care about is my dad’s precious rep and isn’t that a joke since they’ve both done things way more rep-damaging than anything I could ever think of!”

“Hey,” Sean turned to face her across the gear console, “look, we’re headed off for a pretty sweet week of fun and foolishness so let’s stop with all the uptight crap. Deal?”

It took a few seconds, but eventually Mac smiled and nodded enthusiastically. She laughed when Sean offered her his hand to shake. “You’re right,” she took his hand, “to hell with this crap.”

***

Caspian found Prime’s door open when he arrived and he spent the next few minutes watching his brother pouring over a massive book with locks adorning its worn brown cloth cover. When it became clear that Prime wasn’t going to be pulling his head out of the long, brittle pages anytime soon, Caspian placed a lone knock against the door. He waved when Prime’s head lifted.

“If you’re going for the gold star for hardest working twin in the Akintunde tribe, take a break- you’ve already earned it.”

Prime accepted his brother’s dig with a wide, rakish grin. “This stuff is incredible,” he shook his head while studying the open book with unmasked awe. “I’ve been beating my head against a wall for decades trying to uncover more about who we are- and why we’re here...to finally be getting somewhere…” He folded his arms over his chest and sighed.

Caspian pushed off the doorjamb and into the bedroom. “Find anything useful in there?” his light eyes traced the rusty locks on the book.

“I’ve mostly been looking for stuff to support some of what I’ve found and there’s a ton of that.” Prime shrugged. “Probably just more of a bunch of nothin’,” he’d been around long enough to not be completely bowled over by a windfall of information.

Caspian smirked. “I don’t think you believe that.”

Prime’s sleek brows lifted in a quick shrug. “Whether I believe it or not-whether it’s useful or not remains to be seen but I’ve definitely found a lot I didn’t have before.” He put space between himself and the table holding the book.

Intrigue flooded Caspian’s gaze as he settled to the edge of the gargantuan walnut desk. “Please tell me you intend to elaborate?”

Prime seemed eager to do so if the speed with which he rushed back to the books were any example. He swiveled the thick tome around and pointed out something on the page.

Caspian leaned close to view what Prime pointed to. “What’s an eclipser? Is that like an actual eclipse?”

Prime gave a long, slow shake of his head. “That wasn’t the way I read it.”

Caspian straightened over the table. “How did you read it?”

“Sounds like it’s referring to a person,” Prime sounded bewildered. “And then there’s this.”

Caspian watched his brother reach for another book which was as small and thin as its counterpart was long and thick.

Prime opened the thin, red book and thumbed through a few pages until he found what he wanted. Again, he pointed for Caspian to take notice.

A low whistle filled the room. Caspian saw that the material was not only handwritten, but written in a language he couldn’t decipher. “Hope you can translate?”

Prime smirked over the request. “I haven’t come across this language in a while so I’m rusty,” he frowned over the page in question. “Seems to read that the Akintunde tribe is the essential element in the formation of the...annihilation circle- Bravery Returns to wreath the Eclipser.

“Enlightening…” Caspian still seemed bewildered. “What’d be more enlightening is if we knew what the hell an eclipser was and how one forms an annihilation circle.” Exasperation tightened his features.

“Yeah…” Prime was fixated upon the book open in his hands. “How does one form such a thing...and why?”

 

***

 

Fystian couldn’t make it past the doorway when he got to Lilia’s room that night. She hadn’t shut the door to her suite and was busy unpacking her things. The sight of that made him feel more content than he could ever remember being. For just a while he let himself pretend that she was there to stay.

Lilia glanced up from the dresser where she’d been storing a few sweaters. She did a double take when she noticed him there. Fystian silently ordered strength to his legs, made his way into the room and closed the door.

“Thanks for the room,” Lilia smoothed her palms across the seat of her jeans and moved a little towards him. “I really wasn’t looking forward to having to share with my VP,” she thought of Mackenzy then.

“It wasn’t a problem. You have everything you need?”

“No,” Lilia blinked, stunned by herself when the word left her lips. What was going on with her? She wondered. Apparently she had no control over herself or her thoughts where Fystian was concerned.

“I mean, yes,” she cleared her throat suddenly. “Yeah sure I- I have what I… need…” her eyes settled to his mouth and there was no looking away.

Fystian asked no questions or permission for the kiss he pulled her into. After all, it was what he had come there for, wasn’t it?

Lilia gave in as eagerly as she always did. She took comfort, much comfort, in the fact that she wasn’t the only one who seemed extra eager that time. There was a sense of urgency on both sides.

Fystian moved her back until Lilia felt the edge of the bed’s mattress brush her legs. Instead of asking him to stop, she deepened the intensity of the kiss thrusting her tongue hungrily against his. A surge of power welled deep when she heard what sounded like a whimper leave his throat.

Lilia clutched material of the denim shirt he wore unbuttoned over a white T-shirt beneath. She tugged the garment, until they’d both tumbled onto the bed. The scene heightened as Fystian broke the kiss to drag his mouth down her neck and all the way to the cleft of her breasts visible thanks to the scoop neckline of her wine-colored sweater.

She gasped, feeling him there and Fystian blinked appearing as though he were coming up from a spell. He registered nothing but extreme pleasure when she rubbed against him, her fingers pressuring his nape when she drew him down into another kiss. He gave in.

Lilia was lost in sensation and prayed to be led into fulfilment. She didn’t want to stop-didn’t want him to stop. Desperation fueled her as she tried tugging him out of his shirt.

Fystian remained true to having the cooler head and was thankful it had returned. He squeezed her hip and dropped cottony kisses to her cheek and jaw.

“I only came to see if you had what you needed.”

She smiled at the innocence clinging to his deep voice. “I’ll have what I need if you stay,” she purred.

“Lili…” he groaned, “you don’t know what you’re saying…”

“I do…” she made another play for his shirt.

He foiled the attempt and squeezed his eyes shut as if summoning whatever hint of willpower he still possessed. “Shh…” he urged, exerting a tad of strength and pulling her hands away. Quickly, he kissed her forehead, left the bed and the room.

When the door clicked shut behind Fystian, Lilia blinked as though she too had finally come out from under her own spell.